


But Who's Counting

by Lempo Soi (Lemposoi)



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Character of Color, M/M, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Porn Battle, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: 100-2.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rimmer protests his innocence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Who's Counting

**Author's Note:**

> Could be a sequel to my 'Pecking You, Baby' but isn't necessarily.

"I'll have you know I consider this to be, once more, entirely your fault, Lister," Rimmer said, awkwardly pulling a notebook from the bunk's bookshelf without getting up off his back. He found a page and scribbled on it. "That makes it 12. See?" He showed Lister a neat list divided into two columns, titled 'Lister's fault' and 'Rimmer's fault'. There were no markings under Rimmer's own name.

"Not to be pedantic or anything, but how exactly is us having sex always my fault?" Lister asked. He was sprawled between Rimmer's open legs, naked except for socks, shoes and a hat. Rimmer was wearing even less. "You don't exactly put up a struggle."

"I admit we're not talking rape here," Rimmer consented. "It's more like forcible seduction."

Lister frowned. "That _is_ rape, you enormous goit. You saying I raped you?"

"I'm merely saying that I would never have initiated anything with someone whose best achievements in life include getting out of bed before 12 am and once briefly holding a bar of soap."

"What, playing pool with planets and winning is not better than that?"

Rimmer ignored this and went on. "Even if I did ever feel like engaging in rumpy-pumpy with another man, which I wouldn't, it'd be someone more like Napoleon Bonaparte. Someone worthwhile, courageous, heroic."

"Ta, Rimmer, you're a charmer," said Dave Lister, fighter of monsters, many-time saviour of Rimmer's life, and possibly God. "So that bit just now when you grabbed me locks and pushed me up against the wall and shoved your tongue down me throat, that was all me own fault?"

"You forcibly seduced me into it. You knew exactly what you were doing."

Lister leaned his chin on one hand and gazed quizzically at Rimmer. This he had to hear. "Remind me again, how did I do that?"

"During the previous eleven times," Rimmer said, tapping at the notebook, "you had carefully conditioned me to associate that hat," Rimmer pointed at the leather deerstalker still perched on Lister's head, "the rastabilly skank track 'Scorchgrotch' and a T-shirt half-tucked into your trousers with sexual pleasure. To cinch the deal, you began sipping at your beer suggestively."

"Suggestive, was it?" Lister asked, amused.

"I could see your tongue on at least three different occasions. Well, it worked, you bastard. I'm on to you now, though. You won't have it so easy next time."

"No?" Lister started kissing Rimmer's neck, raking his teeth lightly across a fresh, red hickey. "That's a shame." He ran his hand down Rimmer's side, under his thigh. Despite all the talk, Rimmer did not resist as Lister grabbed his behind and brought their hips together.

"It won't work, Listy," Rimmer said nervously, clutching his notebook like a shield between them.

"I'm crushed," said Lister. He slipped his hand between them, found their cocks nestled together, wet inside soggy condoms, and wrapped his fingers lightly around both of them. "Are you sure?" He squeezed ever so slightly.

Rimmer's head jerked back slightly. "Quite sure," he managed.

"I see." Lister pulled at their cocks, rubbing them together. Rimmer turned his face away, his cheeks flushing even as he swelled in Lister's hand. Lister kissed his neck again, and his chest, his cheek with the short stubble on it, his earlobe. He felt Rimmer's hands at the back of his head as the man started moving up against him, thrusting into his hand. The notebook fell somewhere between the mattress and the wall.

God, he loved it when Rimmer surrendered - didn't run away, didn't try to control the situation, but just gave in. As annoying as that was when you were facing hostile GELFs, in bed it was utterly delicious. He grabbed Rimmer's head with his free hand and found his mouth with his own.

"Damn you," Rimmer groaned and then kissed him back, deep and wet and full of want. They rolled, and Rimmer raised himself on his knees above Lister, picking a pack of condoms from the shelf and ripping open a new one. "I'll have you know that once more I take no responsibility--"

"Of course not," Lister snapped. "Come on, man, get on with it. I want you."

Rimmer paused, suddenly hesitant. "You do? I mean, yes, of course you do, but how can you just go ahead and _say_ \--"

"Rimmer!" Lister shouted, and grabbed Rimmer's hips. "Please!"

Rimmer didn't speak again, but fumbled for Lister's cock beneath him and pulled off the used condom. He placed the new one between his lips, just like Lister had taught him, and bent down to slip it over him.

There were other ways to do it, but why on earth would Lister have mentioned them? Rimmer's mouth was wet and hot and he suckled on the tip of Lister's cock as he rolled the rubber down. Lister had to grab the pillow to stop himself from grabbing his head and pushing up into his throat. Fuck.

Lister groaned in disappointment when Rimmer took his mouth away, but it was only to reach for the bottle of lube. That more than made up for it. Lister grinned happily as he watched Rimmer drench him in lube, his face so flushed and focused it was almost pretty.

When he was dripping with lube, Rimmer moved up and guided him to his entrance. Lister groaned and bucked up, and the tip of his throbbing erection slipped through Rimmer's ring. It grasped him so tightly that for a moment Lister saw stars. Rimmer hissed.

"Now, hold on, we'll just go slow-oh-ohh--" Lister bucked up and pulled Rimmer down both at once, burying himself half-way in. "Dammit, Lister, I've warned you about shoving that grotesque thing--" Lister bucked up again and Rimmer didn't talk anymore, just knelt there bent double underneath the low bunk top and gasped, his mouth a perfect O, his ass full of cock and so exquisitely fragile that Lister could have come right then and there. Instead he reached up and slipped his thumb inside Rimmer's mouth, rocking his hips in the incredible slick tightness of him, and watched him come apart.

When he came, Lister saw more than stars behind his closed eyelids: he saw rainbows and puppies and green tangerines and even a world where Rimmer wasn't such a smeghead.

Afterwards, as they lay slumped and tangled on the bunk in their second afterglow, their positions reversed, Rimmer murmured, "Thirteen."


End file.
